Long before her own novels became the subject of literary acclaim, New Zealand-born author Meg Mason was profiling other writers as a journalist. Six years after the publication of Sorrow and Bliss – which won Fiction Book of the Year at the British Book Awards – Mason returns with her highly anticipated new novel, Sophie, Standing There.
Exploring longing, literary obsession and the peculiarities of unrequited love, the book marks an intriguing new chapter for the author. In this Q&A with Mandy Myles of Bookety Book Books, Mason reflects on the inspiration behind her latest work, her relationship with writing and the ideas that continue to fascinate her.
In conversation with Meg Mason
It’s been six years since Sorrow and Bliss was published. How has life changed in the years since?
The greatest change, the one I’m most thankful for, is I’m able to write fiction for a living now. Previously, it had to be out of hours, fitted around my full-time job as a journalist; I’d never written a book in daylight before. In fact, I so struggled to get used to it that in the end the only way to write [the novel] was by getting up at 4.30am, to write in the dark.
Sophie, Standing There feels like both a celebration and an examination of the literary world. Was the inspiration cumulative over the years, or more shaped by the whirlwind after Sorrow and Bliss?
Before Sorrow and Bliss, I’d met maybe two authors in real life, only to interview them as a journalist, so combined, I’d spent an hour in their presence; the rest of my exposure to their world was in the audience at literary festivals. To then, suddenly, age 43, find yourself in the wings of a literary
festival, meeting every author you’ve ever loved, was entirely surreal. While I loved every minute of it, I didn’t consider myself for even a second as belonging to that world. I was just lucky to get a glimpse into it, as a reader, like Sophie. I wasn’t consciously collecting it as material either.
I swore I would never write a book about writers, writing, as it’s a notoriously hard thing to do without seeming self-fascinated or creating a world that reads as very exclusive… When I realised I did have to write about it… I knew it would be from the perspective of someone who finds herself close to that world, but not in it; describing what it’s like to see your idols up close. In Sophie’s case, to love someone who doesn’t know you exist, doesn’t even see you as you serve them in the wings.
How did the cameos of some very well-known authors (fictional versions, of course) come about?
It seems to be my ‘process’ to start and abandon multiple novels over months… before I hit on the one I’m meant to be writing. That was true with Sophie, who really did just walk into my mind one day, but I thought she was only a short story I’d spend a week on and never show anyone.
That meant I could write whatever I liked, for my own amusement. But as it evolved into a novel, with an entirely made-up author at the centre, the only way to make her convincing was to surround her with real writers. Because I wasn’t just namechecking them but using them as actual characters — like, making George Saunders who is famously the nicest author in the world have a tantrum backstage about his Madonna mic — I knew I was going to have to seek their permission. I thought every single one of them would decline with thanks, there was absolutely nothing in it for them… but all 10 said yes, and I was so shocked and I will be forever.
The character of Lilac Dunne is magnetic, yet elusive. How much of her did you know, and how much did you leave open?
The first half of this novel I wrote in three weeks because I felt like I knew Sophie entirely from the opening sentence, but as soon as Lilac came in… it wasn’t as though I lost momentum but everything slowed. I had to think so hard about who she was, what her motivations were in choosing to spend time with a regular person when her habit and survival mechanism as a famous author is to remain aloof and avoid entangling herself, especially with a reader who claims to love her. When I just couldn’t figure it out, I decided that I wasn’t meant to — as though Lilac herself was refusing to reveal herself fully to me, exactly as she does with Sophie.
What do you hope readers take away from this novel?
That loneliness is part of the human experience, not a reflection of who we are as individuals, or a consequence of our personality, and not something shameful, which is what it can feel like within that season. But like all seasons, it passes. Our people are out there, we just have to find them.
This article originally appeared in the spring ’26 issue of Fashion Quarterly.
As told to: Mandy Myles.
Imagery: Anne Peters and supplied.
